


Incertaine

by SilverSerpentine



Series: Petrichor [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Slash, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSerpentine/pseuds/SilverSerpentine
Summary: Harry feels empty after the war, he wants something more. So obviously the answer is to go back in time and inadvertently fall in love with the future dark lord.This is the prequel, and the main story will come after this.Prequel To LacunaI apologize for my terrible writing, this is my first fanfic I've ever written, and I'm not really good with words.If you have any constructive criticism or comments they are extremely welcome!I need all the advice I can get.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Petrichor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156268
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	Incertaine

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoy tom/Harry time travel fics, and I've found that a lot of them are sadly abandoned, and i wanted to try my hand at writing fanfics for the first time, after reading so many.  
> This was written at 1 am so it probably isn't the best  
> Not that it ever would lol
> 
> Also, everything in the Harry potter universe belongs to Jk Rowling sadly, I do not support her TERF behavior and only like her books, not her as a person, please stay safe everyone and know that you are loved for who you are  
> :)  
> Anyway onto the ficlet thing

The rain poured outside of Black Manor, the harsh clash of thunder occasionally breaking the silence, besides the steady stream of water, lighting up the room. Harry sighed, opening his eyes a little, not feeling he had enough strength to do so completely.

The muted colors of the room came into his vision as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He lay in a chair from one of the many usually abandoned rooms in the manor, after falling asleep while zoning off. His neck hurt from the awkward angle his neck lay, and he winced at the pain. The only thing keeping the place from falling into ruin seemed to be Kreatcher’s persistence to upkeep the manor to livable standards, should ‘Master ever decide to see other wizards and witches again’.

After Sirius’s death, Harry had realized something. No matter what he did, everything he cared about would always be taken from him. It was a certainly a bitter realization to come from, and it took a while for the denial to erode and acceptance to settle in. Ginny leaving seemed to be the final straw. She couldn't deal with his cold, distant, aloofness, his Gryffindor attitude and fire long gone. His last attempt at a seemingly normal, happy life. He had always preferred her as a friend anyway. After that, he fell into a deep hole of depression, retreating into Black Manor, going out only to get the bare minimums for living. Even that was only because Kreatchur reminded him so often.

He was supposed to be the boy-who-lived, one of the most powerful wizards of his time and slayer of Voldemort. Everywhere he went, he was surrounded by people, be it fans wanting autographs, shopkeepers offering him discounts and free items from their store, employers wanting the chance to hire the famed boy who lived, or people who had simply heard about him and wanted to see a glance of him and maybe see if any of the rumors were true. And of course there were reporters, wanting to get an clear image of how the mighty had fallen. The Daily Prophet was probably the worst out of all of them, not that he kept up with any of that anyway. Ginny had a subscription and he would often glance at the titles, seemingly growing in absurdity and grasping at any rumors that could be exploited. Of course he was their favorite target, numerous articles about his wasted potential, and how he messed up with Ginny. Always criticizing, as if they knew what better to do with his life than he did.

Because of course they would. They always had. They had left him with the Dursleys, abusive mockeries of parenting figures that loved their own pig of a son and treated him like gold, while they thought Harry wasn't even worthy to touch the ground they stood on. He would be so relieved to finally be free of that he instantly latched onto any positive reinforcement he could. Dumbledore knew what he was doing, nullifying the will of his parents, which explicitly stated he was never to fall under the care of the Dursleys, no matter the circumstances.  
He laughed, because if he didn’t, he would surely cry again. He had been so stupid, acting as their pawn to act out their goals without having to get their hands dirty. Placing the fate of wizarding Britain on the shoulders of a child, did they not think he would break? And he continued this, until the bitter end, when he saw the bright green curse light that had started this all in the first place. Then after the train station and ending Voldemort, it was done. He had done his job, what did he do now?  
He found himself asking this question every day, when he signed for numourous quidditch teams, all accepting him, because their fame could only rise with him on their team. So that’s what he became, a trophy to be passed around between greedy hands. He quit after a few years, and tried desperately to find something to restore the fire he once had, to be fighting for something, to live for.

Sitting in a chair, away from society, shunned and seen as a disappointment to most, with nothing.  
This wasn’t living, this was barely existing, breathing and eating and mindlessly wandering, as his mind had been for many years before. He wondered how it would be different if he was born earlier, so the prophecy didn’t refer to him. He could have had a normal life, an actual childhood, and made friends because of who he was, not because they wanted to gain the favor of the boy who lived. It was a bitter idea, and of course it would never happen, maybe in some alternate universe, but not this one.  
Hogwarts had been his sanctuary, even in the most dangerous circumstances, and he met some brilliant people there too. He missed Cedric, looking back he might have even fancied the hufflepuff, but as usual, he was taken from him too. All of his losses seemed to have one thing in common, or most anyway. All because one dark lord decided to go after a child because of a half heard prophecy. 

Who in their right mind would do That? No one of course, and obviously he wasn’t when he did that either. And the longer he let his mind wander, he eventually found himself wondering what would have happened if Harry was in the same time as him. After all they were two sides of the same coin, with some obvious differences, but it was all too interesting not to think about. So many what ifs.

Looking back, the encounter during the Chamber of Secrets was… peculiar, and if not for the fact that Ginny’s life was on the line and the horcrux being bent on killing him, it could have gone very differently. What if he had known Tom, not as Voldemort, but Tom Marvalo Riddle?

He went to the library while mulling about all this, skimming the sounds of the books, many of them containing dark arts that would have had even Grindlewald’s interest peaked. It had been quite a while since he came in here, especially looking for something. His hand stopped and hovered on a particular one about time travel. He picked it up, dusting the cobwebs around the edges and opened it up. It was mostly about the theory of time travel and not very helpful for what he needed. He slipped it back into it’s place, looking for another book. He found one with a particularly dark aura, and as he opened it, the page landed on a picture of a Time Turner. However, this one was quite different from the one he had used with Hermione. It had many extra gears and a strange crystal inside, and completely different ruins. Something about mastering time… It was quite the jump from the last book, and he found himself reading the passage below. It described different time turners and their history, with most of them being confiscated and destroyed by the ministry, while the rest were heavily monitored. (figures)

He was shocked to learn that apparently the Blacks had owned one at a point in time, and just out of curiosity, he drew his wand and said “accico Blacks time Turner ”  
With a pop, it appeared in his hand and he had to make sure this was real. It was like the time Turner in the book, with a small glowing stone that emitted power, and it looked like… a calendar, with gears surrounding it and holding it protectively. The ‘calendar’ part had an adjustable date and if he could remember from the book, spinning the Turner once he selected the year, it would transfer him there.

He was so tired of just existing.… he didn’t feel like himself, and now he had an opportunity to change that. He didn’t want to have to go through his life again, and he also didn’t know what that would do to the timeline or whatever or if there would be two of him, so he would go somewhere he didn’t exist yet.

He had always been curious about Tom anyway, not Voldemort, but the boy that came from the diary, dark, but not yet evil. He didn’t have anything to loose, as he had already lost everything, so he figured, why not? Maybe he could prevent his rise as a dark lord, befriend him, or maybe even something more…

Harry set the Turner and with baited breath and his heart pounding in his chest, he spun it.  
As soon as he spun it, the stone began to glow brighter, and he felt the world grow blurry.  
There was a loud bang and a flash of light, as Harry Potter vanished, and appeared somewhere in 1942.


End file.
